


Extra Training

by Oodles



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Crisis Core Era (Compilation of FFVII), M/M, Praise Kink, some light pet play, touching through clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oodles/pseuds/Oodles
Summary: Zack offers his help to a stressed out Angeal.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Angeal Hewley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41





	Extra Training

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a secret exchange!! I've thought about these two many times and accidentally wrote too much. Enjoy some good boy Zack.

Everything about Angeal says _stress_ to Zack. His stiff posture, his curt way of speaking, his inability to relax even after they clock out of work. Zack knows things are getting busier around Midgar. Summer always brings more work and less breaks for Soldiers. Zack thought to do something nice for his mentor, but his plan isn’t terribly detailed as he finds himself standing awkwardly outside of Angeal’s door in the Soldier’s quarters. 

Zack knocks, doesn’t get an answer, and then tries the handle without thought. He is halfway inside before he realizes that this might not be okay with Angeal, but the immediate thought that chases him through the threshold is that if he backed out now and someone saw him, they’d think he was breaking in. Quickly, Zack shuts the door behind him with his pulse racing.

No one comes to greet him, so Zack just starts looking around. No harm in taking in his surroundings, right? Angeal was always on about details and thorough work. He’d be proud of Zack for taking the time. Sure. 

It’s only a mud room, extra shoes and boots sit against one edge of the floor, a photo hanging above with Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth with their arms draped around each other, looking like fresh recruits. The last thing Zack sees is several wooden pegs for coats lining the left wall. Angeal’s is there, the peacoat he only brings out for winter, a few empty pegs, and on the last one is a black collar. Zack frowns, looking at the worn fabric of it. There are beat-up tags dangling off with an address in Banora. 

Shinra doesn’t allow pets… 

When the door opens up, Zack nearly jumps out of his skin and wheels around to face Angeal. The man stares at Zack head on for a few seconds before he blinks once and shuts the door. 

“Why am I not surprised to find you in here?”

Zack gives a short laugh. “Well, sir, I was looking for you. What other place would I find you then in your own home?”

Angeal places his keys on one of the empty pegs by Zack’s head. “Excellent detective work, soldier. And tell me why you felt it was necessary to let yourself into my apartment?”

“Ah, see,” Zack is relieved that Angeal doesn’t _sound_ angry, but he knows better than to assume. “I was worried that someone would think I was breaking into your place. Ya know, as if I was up to no good. So I figured it was better to just… come right in, so nobody had to, uh, cause you unnecessary stress.”

Angeal pries his shoes off and sets them in a row beside the others before turning to Zack and folding his arms. “You _did_ break into my house.”

Zack holds his hands up, shoulders rising. “It was unlocked!”

Angeal makes a quiet sound that Zack can’t decipher from his neutral expression. “Zack, what are you doing in here?”

Suddenly being here without permission feels like a terrible idea, but Angeal _did_ say he wasn’t surprised. 

“What’s up with the collar?” Zack asks, thumb pointed behind him. “I thought Shinra didn’t allow dogs.”

“They allowed you,” Angeal says before walking out of the entryway. 

Zack is pretty sure they’re joking now, so he starts after him. “Sir—”

“Shoes,” Angeal says without looking and Zack nearly falls over trying to catch himself before he puts his boot into the clean hall. 

“Right.” Zack braces himself on the wall and raises one leg up at a time, popping his boots off in a heap beside Angeal’s. “Did you used to have a pet?”

When he jogs after Angeal into the rest of the house, Zack finds him opening his fridge for a plastic bottle. Juice?

“It was a childhood pet, yes,” Angeal says. “He was a dear friend. Passed away before I came here.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Zack says, buzzing as he realizes he’s never been in Angeal’s home before. The place is immaculate, as he would expect from Angeal, but more than that, there is a surprising touch of beauty to the few things he has for decoration. A well loved bonsai tree in one corner, a massive landscape painting that looks hauntingly realistic in the dim light of the apartment, carefully hung photographs of smiling faces. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Angeal says as he places a glass of water on the island counter for Zack. “He lived a spoiled, happy life. Drink. You’re dehydrated.”

“Am I?” Zack walks up to take a gulp.

“You always are,” Angeal says, sipping at his orange juice. “Zack.”

Zack puts the glass down again, nerves building like poison in his joints. “Okay, okay, I know this is weird and I’m sorry for breaking in. It _was_ unlocked.” He ignores another withering glance from Angeal. “It’s just that you look so stressed! I guess it’s pretty selfish of me to think I could do anything about that, and I guess I accidentally made it worse by trying to surprise you, so I’m sorry about that… All cards on the table, I’m feeling pretty stupid right now.”

Angeal holds Zack’s gaze for an uncomfortable beat of silence before a laugh bubbles up out of his chest. “You are something else, you know that?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve heard,” Zack says, grinning before he can help it. A laugh is better than he could have hoped for after this initial blunder. 

Angeal shakes his head before he goes to take another sip, though he seems to think better of it and sets the bottle down to come around the counter and lean beside Zack. “You want to help me de-stress?”

“That was the thought, yeah,” Zack says, leaning his hip beside Angeal. 

“What was your brilliant plan to accomplish that?” Angeal asks, glancing down at Zack. “Or did you blunder head first into a mission with nothing but enthusiasm? Again.”

Zack scrubs at the back of his neck, face hot. “Jeez, Angeal.”

Angeal puts his hands into his pockets, another slight shake of his head. “You’re doing fine, Zack. I’d have kicked you out already if you weren’t.”

Floored by the compliment, Zack spins around to stand right in front of Angeal, hands on hips. “Alright, then, I’ll do this your way. Deductive reasoning!”

Angeal’s mouth curves up and he nods. This type of joking isn’t the norm for the two of them, and every positive look from Angeal is fuel for Zack’s fire. “Go on.”

Zack looks over the space one more time, gathering his ammunition before presenting his argument to Angeal. “You live in an organized space. Everything’s in its right place. That, combined with the little tree and the old collar and the fact that you gave me water, tells me that you like to take care of things.”

“Little tree,” Angeal echoes, eye bright.

“You know what I mean,” Zack forges on. “It’s all stuff that needs attention. And you call _me_ a puppy…”

The slight shift in Angeal’s gaze makes Zack realize that neither of them have fully committed to whether or not it’s an insult to call Zack that.

“I don’t mind,” Zack blurts out, hands splayed. “I- I kinda like it, actually. Like you’re letting me be one of those things you pay attention to.”

He doesn’t really hear how _intimate_ that sounds until the words are out of his mouth, and then he’s burning from head to toe. “I just…”

Angeal’s gaze is heavy as stone on Zack’s face, but it’s not the usual scrutiny of his mentor inspecting for flawed work. It’s something else. 

“If it makes you… happy… to take care of…” Zack can’t finish that sentence, realizing how presumptuous it is, but Angeal straightens up from the counter and brings the back of his gloved hand slowly to touch the point of Zack’s chin. 

Angeal tips Zack’s head back to look him in the eye and suddenly the air feels solid as Zack breathes in deep. “Did you think there was a possibility that when you broke into my apartment this evening, that you would be offering yourself up as a puppy?”

Zack blinks at him, overwhelmed by the handsome planes of Angeal’s face and the fact that there isn’t any anger or frustration in his cool blue eyes. Angeal _is_ handsome. Zack’s never really let himself think that, certainly not when they’re standing this close. “No, sir, that did not cross my mind.”

“Well?” Angeal asks, brows doing more to ask the question than his voice.

Zack laughs a little, nerves now in his throat, quieting his voice. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You are.” Angeal withdraws his hand, to start pulling his gloves off, and Zack’s heart starts pounding in his chest. Angeal is still in his soldier uniform, but Zack changed into casual clothes, just black pants and a Shinra hoodie. He really did not think this through. He should have put nicer things on to see Angeal after hours, risen to meet him a little better. 

When Angeal takes Zack’s face in one hand, thumb and forefinger light on his cheeks, Zack stares back up at him with what he is sure must be, not stars, but entire galaxies in his eyes. He doesn’t realize until exactly that moment how badly he wanted some kind of acknowledgment from Angeal. Feeling his mentor slide a hand into Zack’s hair would probably make Zack wag his tail if he had one. 

Angeal settles a large hand through the mess of Zack’s hair and scratches the back of his head, lightly, not like a dog at all. Zack shivers all the same. He can’t quite relax because this is the most surreal thing that’s ever happened to him, but it is beyond good to feel that kind of touch from hard-hearted Angeal. Soft, deliberate strokes, like he already has Zack’s head mapped out, and a plan to touch every inch.

Zack straightens his back, leaning into Angeal’s hand, the confusion about this evaporating with every breath. And then Angeal says in a quiet but firm voice. 

“Good boy.”

Zack shuts his eyes, mostly because he’s embarrassed by how two words send goosebumps down his entire body. Is he blushing? Is he capable of blushing? Is Angeal watching him turn red like sunburn?

“Come sit with me,” Angeal says, and hooks two fingers into the back of Zack’s sweatshirt. 

Zack is grateful that Angeal seems to know what he wants. The less Zack has to think, the better. Angeal already seems less stiff than he did when they parted ways in the lobby earlier that evening, and that’s all Zack really cares about. Well, that and the shape of Angeal’s bare fingers on his skin. 

Angeal leads him to the living room. He takes a seat on a plush couch and says, “Sit.”

Zack just assumes it’s part of it, to do what he imagines a dog would, so he kneels on the floor between Angeal’s legs. 

Angeal gives another quirk of his eyebrow. “You’re good at this.”

“Thanks,” Zack says, still embarrassed, but it’s mostly giving way to the pleasant feeling of the praise. 

Angeal starts removing the extra pieces of his uniform, getting himself down to just the sleeveless turtleneck and pants, before he leans his forearms on his knees and Zack goes still, waiting to see what this will become. Zack always figured thoughts about Angeal’s SOLDIER-perfect physique weren't the best to entertain on his own, but sitting there on his knees while Angeal studies him, it’s hard to ignore. Thick arms, broad shoulders, his bare hands— his hands are the wildest part. Zack never sees Angeal without his gloves on.

“You have been very good, Zack. I mean that.”

Being this close to Angeal, and hearing such sincere words, Zack isn’t prepared for the way it goes straight through him like warm rain. 

“Really?” Zack asks quietly. 

“Yes,” Angeal says, and he’s touching Zack’s cheek again, tracing a circle onto Zack’s face. “I might be hard on you, but it’s because I know you’ll be great.”

Zack dips his head on instinct as he feels his face burning up again. “Sir…”

When Angeal scratches through Zack’s hair again, a different sensation blossoms up through him, from the soles of his feet, straight to his hips.

“You’ve been a joy to teach,” Angeal goes on, low spoken words just for Zack. 

Zack covers his mouth as he feels himself getting hard. This isn’t what he’s supposed to do, _oh god_. The way he’s touching Zack is too gentle, too sincere. Angeal has both his hands on Zack’s head, carding through his messy hair. 

“You deserve a reward,” Angeal says, hand skimming down Zack’s spine. 

Zack’s breath goes shaky and he keeps leaning forward until his forehead is touching the couch between Angeal’s knees. It feels so much better than he could have anticipated. Hearing Angeal’s approval, feeling it smoothed over his body with careful hands. Usually, Zack is the one who gives. He gives selflessly to anyone who asks, because that’s how _he_ was taught growing up. You don’t make friends by rationing kindness. 

Angeal pushes Zack’s sweatshirt up to scratch over his back and Zack gives a full body shiver. His goose bumps are undoubtedly visible. He wonders if Angeal can read in that texture how no one does this for him.

When Angeal tries to pick Zack’s head up again, Zack puts his hands over his groin, unable to look Angeal in the eyes, but he’s met with a soothing voice.

“It’s alright,” Angeal says. “You’re not used to this.”

Zack forces himself to look at Angeal again, fighting off panic and arousal he never asked for. “You just… mean a lot to me.”

Angeal’s mouth just barely suggests a smile, hands drifting up to hold Zack by the face, long fingers touching the lobes of Zack’s ears. His thumbs brush over Zack’s burning cheeks, and he nods. 

“I think you alone have made me more important than I am.”

Zack’s mouth opens, not entirely sure what he means by that, but Angeal pulls lightly on Zack’s face. “Come up here.”

“I… sir.” Zack’s still covering himself. 

“Zack. Up.”

The tone of Angeal’s voice doesn’t leave room for debate, and Zack starts to pull himself up onto the couch beside Angeal, anxiety like knives in his shoulders. As soon as he’s there, Angeal guides Zack’s back across his thighs and that’s how he finds himself belly up on Angeal’s lap in his apartment, hard enough for his dick to show through his pants. 

Angeal rests his hand on Zack’s stomach, and the warmth is entirely too close to Zack’s erection.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Angeal says and Zack gives an awkward laugh at the subtle sound of Angeal’s amusement.

“It’s not supposed to be about me.” Zack has his arms defensively folded next to his head, ready to cover his face if he needs to.

“Yes it is,” Angeal says.

A moment of clarity surfaces as Zack looks at Angeal’s surprisingly serious expression. _Right_. It’s not just about Angeal telling him what to do. If that were the case, roughness would be just fine. This is about _care_. Zack’s shoulders start to relax as Angeal slips his fingers under Zack’s sweatshirt, holding the warmth of his skin against Zack’s for a moment.

“A reward,” Angeal says. “For good behavior.”

Even if Zack lied about what he wanted, his body answers him before he can get any words out of his throat. He’s never been this hard just from someone speaking to him. Still, Angeal only scratches lightly over Zack’s abs. 

“You’re strong, Zack, but you’re still too thin. You have to eat more.”

Zack looks up at him, letting himself smile. “I could use a little help with that.”

Angeal gives his own small nod back, approval in his eyes, and Zack feels it like a soft blanket settling over him.

“You need structure,” Angeal says. 

Zack shrugs. “Or just you.”

Angeal gifts him with a wry smile as he leans over and takes Zack’s face in his free hand. “Getting a little bold down there.”

Zack is straight giddy from the attention and the hands on his body. “That’s what you get for taking in a stray, sir.”

“We’ll have to work on your training,” Angeal says, touching Zack’s lips with his thumb. His other hand brushes against the waist of Zack’s pants. “But I do want you to feel welcome here.”

Zack’s heart is beating in his throat as Angeal slides his fingers over the front of Zack’s pants, gripping him through fabric, and Zack’s breath stalls out for a brain-scrambling moment of bliss. He gets his air back with a gasp and starts pushing his hips up into Angeal automatically, but Angeal presses him by the cock back to the couch.

“Stay,” Angeal says, still looking Zack in the eyes. 

Zack holds his gaze, unsteady and on fire. He nods several times, breath a whisper, too excited to pass this chance up. Angeal searches Zack’s eyes for a moment before slowly rubbing his palm over the shape of Zack’s erection. Zack’s eyes flutter shut and he starts to tip his head back, but Angeal cups Zack’s neck and says, “Eyes on me.”

It takes effort, but Zack looks at Angeal again, sees the magnetic quality of his gaze, and gives a harsh breath at the insistent press of his hand. Now that he sees it, it’s all Zack wants to look at. Angeal’s rapidly brightening eyes as he gets Zack hard without touching his skin. This kind of rapt attention is what Zack’s always wanted. And the game of restraint only heightens the pleasure.

Angeal knows what he’s doing, and that fact tickles the back of Zack’s thoughts. It means Angeal has done this before, gotten someone off with just a hand over their jeans. Either that or Zack is so desperate for it that even a light touch like this is more than enough. If Zack’s being honest, Angeal could probably do this without even touching him. 

But this is supposed to be a reward.

Zack’s panting, eyes lidded, hardly able to maintain eye contact, but he’s certainly no quitter. Not with Angeal. He’s going to pass this test, like he passes every other test. Zack’s jaw is twitching open like he’s got words to say, but his mind is empty. It’s just Angeal, and his hand, and the will to follow these rules so he can make it to the end. 

Angeal’s patience just might kill him, though. He takes such a slow and steady pace, like he does with everything. The heat of his palm and the press of his fingers, it’s all so teasing with layers between them. Zack starts moving his hips in tiny pulsing movements, not enough to leave the couch, but just to chase Angeal’s rhythm. It’s a painful kind of hard, being coaxed through denim.

The tug on his zipper gives Zack false hope, and he clutches the edge of Angeal’s sweater. Of course, Angeal only slips his hand over the front of Zack’s briefs, still keeping his skin distant. Even that feels ten times better, _closer_ , and Zack moans through the shape of Angeal’s fingers tracing up the length of his cock. Thumbing at the head through damp fabric forces Zack’s mouth wide open, eyes almost shut, but he’s not giving up yet. Not with Angeal looking at him like Zack’s about to get promoted. _Proud._ He swears he can feel Angeal getting hard from touching Zack, a line of heat on his back that makes it oh so tempting to break the rules. Zack’s right on the edge of sane when Angeal says it again.

“Good boy.”

He can’t keep his eyes open as the floor falls out from under him. Zack claps a hand down onto Angeal’s leg as he comes. It takes him by surprise, ruining the inside of his briefs, but all he really feels is Angeal gripping Zack harder, like he wants to feel it too. Completely unafraid of the mess, meeting Zack with the first trace of _eagerness_ that Zack’s ever felt on him. Angeal doesn’t let up his grip either, just holds Zack while he comes down from the shock, fingers softly stroking his neck.

After he’s able to breathe right again, Zack opens his eyes to find Angeal watching him. 

“I messed up at the end,” Zack says. “Sorry, sir.”

Angeal smiles, sliding his hand back up through Zack’s hair. “Just a matter of stamina. We can work on it.”

Zack shivers, leaning into Angeal’s hand. “Ready when you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
